


Never Enough

by chromaggia (endlesseternities)



Series: Colours In the Dark [2]
Category: Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris, Red Dragon (2002)
Genre: Angst, Ball Gags, Bisexual Female Character, Blackmail, Blindfolds, Blood, Blood As Lube, Bondage, Bruises, Brutal Murder, Cannibalism, Canon Compliant, Chains, Character Study, Close Calls, Cock Worship, Cutting, Death Threats, Declarations Of Love, Denial, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Erotica, Evidence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fear, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Fights, Fire, Flogging, Frantic Thoughts, Genital Torture, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Gun Violence, Harassment, Human Anatomy, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Incest, Incineration, Insanity, Interrogation, Jealous Hannibal, Knives, Labia Worship, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Letters, Light BDSM, Love/Hate, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Murder, Nightmares, Nipple Play, Not Canon Compliant, Older Man/Younger Woman, Physical Abuse, Pity Sex, Poetry, Psychoanalysis, Psychological Horror, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Psychology, Public Display of Affection, Random Encounters, Rape, Reluctant Sadist, Repressed Memories, Riddles, Rough Kissing, Sadism, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Lubrication, Self-Pity, Serial Killers, Slit Throats, Smut, St. Andrew's Cross, Stalking, Survival Horror, Suspicions, Taunting, Tears, Threats, Trauma, Underage consensual sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Younger Woman/Younger Woman, clit worship, spoiling, the tooth fairy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-01-10 02:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12289671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlesseternities/pseuds/chromaggia
Summary: Set just after "Victim of Ritual" and during the events of the 2002 film, "Red Dragon," Eva and Dr. Chilton are forced to keep a professional relationship, as there is one below in the 'dungeons' who knows of their illicit connection. However, as Special Agent Will Graham becomes involved, he has to reassert his past dealings with Lecter to solve a case in the present. Eva is fervent to keep her hold over Chilton, but when she discovers that Lecter has other plans for the two of them, also knowing that the agent is tracking her, she must take a route that'll lead her into the deepest of hells.





	1. Into the Void

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is the second half of my series, "Colours in the Dark."
> 
> Eva Green is still my original character's face claim, and the face claim for Camilla Grey is Alexandria Daddario. There will still be themes of underage sex, and also--- you get some lesbianism. If you're homophobic, you know where the "X" tab on your browser page is. 
> 
> This is not written for profit. 
> 
> The characters (except Eva and Camilla), settings, places, things, quotes do not belong to me. They will all belong to Thomas Harris, Brent Ratner, and William Blake in their respective ways.
> 
> Also, comments and kudos are appreciated. Thanks!
> 
> PS: The music I wrote this to is none other than "Never Enough" by the amazing, beautifully operatic Tarja Turunen.

Frederick had helped me dispose of the body, which, to my surprise, was both a blessing and a curse. He swept all the blood up, cleaned away my prints and his, but he was clumsy. He was heaving, he was retching. I myself could have done it better, but my love, my sweet old Frederick, at least he was helping me when no other would. Perhaps he did have something the matter with him, but I knew that deep down, he was no mastermind when it came to murder. No. He didn’t have the stomach for it. I did and that was all he needed to know.

\--

When we went downstairs into the basement, I threw the door open to the incinerator and started to shove my father’s mangled corpse inside. Frederick pushed behind me and together, we managed to put Papa inside without hesitation. I slammed the door shut and started to stoke the fires. The smell of the garbage bag came first. My darling stood beside me and withdrew a handkerchief from his coat pocket. He threw it to his mouth, turned and dared not to look back. I, on the other hand, watched.

The flames licked at Papa’s corpse and the bag melted, quite violently, to his face. It sank into his features and the smell of burned hair entered the room. The temperature grew hotter and wilder and I felt rejuvenated by this act. Of course, his flesh began to burn too. The stench was enough for me to bear, but Frederick started to heave, started to bend over and hurl onto the cold, concrete floor.

He was becoming more ill by the second, then he took me by the wrist.

“Eva, for Christ’s sake, come upstairs.”

I shook my head as I watched still. “No, Fred. Not until I know that he’s nothing but ashes.”

He persisted still and grabbed me, pulling me against his body as he tried to regain himself. I heard him inhale deep as he tried not to vomit further. “You’re out of your goddamn mind, you know that?”

I pat his cheek with my left hand and kissed him then, not minding if he vomited or not. “I know. But damn it, he hurt me, Frederick. He hurt me, your little girl. He violated me, fucked me almost bloodily and then he made me suffocate on his insolent prick. Won’t you allow me this moment of justice?”

I pushed my fingers through the waves of his mullet and held him to me. I placed my face on his shoulder and watched as the flames burned. The smell increased and Frederick returned the handkerchief to his face. I was proud of Frederick. He was standing there with his arm around me while he stood there, enduring the stench while I watched the fires scorch the corpse of my father.

“ _I love you, Frederick_.”

Amidst the choking and gagging, he discerned four words I thought he’d never say to me, even in such a calm, somewhat concerned manner. “ _I love you, too_.”

\--

Hours passed and the smell of burnt flesh was gone.

While Frederick had gone to sleep, I went downstairs again and cleaned out the incinerator. I used disinfectant and bleach, along with a few traces of ammonia. It was completely wiped down by the time I was done using it. The chemicals were about me and I knew then that the smell all three combined were worse than the scent of burnt flesh. I threw the gloves down and went back upstairs to the master bedroom where Fred was sleeping.

He seemed like an innocent idiot, or as Dr. Lecter had called him once before, _a freshman fumbling at a panty girdle_. His waves of brownish-grey were sitting firm on his face and his hand was extended upright, cupping the side of the pillow where he lay his head. I wanted him then, I wanted him now. But, before I would go near him, I would go into the bath and wash myself. I hated the smell combined, but the smell of ammonia--- now that was my favorite.

\--

I took the sponge and swept it over my body.

The water I chose to bath in was cold, like ice, and I felt my breasts swarm with the tantalizing feeling that I was freezing to death. My nipples were tough, my labia numb. I shuddered as I started to inhale. I slowly slid underwater as if I were nothing. My hair floated around me and my eyes opened, the water a translucent film over my irises. I stared at the vast ceiling and felt as dead as my father was.

But true death--- what was that like I wondered.

Fourteen seconds went by and I shot up from the waters, my flesh red and pale in some areas, my hips cold, my feet devoid of feeling. I reached for the towel beside my tub but as I looked over to see where it was, I saw Frederick standing there. He had already grabbed it and with one arm under the other, he held it out on two fingers. His jaw was straight and his eyes were cold. I felt chastised by his gaze.

Like the scared little girl I was, I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried.

"Eva, you're turning blue."

I shook my head as I spoke, my voice cracking.

“Fred, _I had to do it_. I was so scared and I **hated** him. I’ve hated him all these years and he was such a monster. You are a saint, no--- an angel, compared to him. I’ve waited all my sixteen years to end him, and at last, I could. You have no idea how much it meant to me when you held me tonight,” I choked.

He walked over to the tub and sat on its rim. He looked down at me and his stern straight-faced look was gone. It melted somehow into a disgusted gaze of sympathy though I knew it was not the case. My lips were quivering now because of the cold. He saw this, and with his hands, put the towel around me as I stood. My labia was exposed and he warmed them immediately with a kiss. The stark warmth of his lips somehow brought me life. Frederick stood upright then too and put his arms around me.

  
He drug me out of the tub and walked with me, side-by-side, towards the bed. He sat me down and dried my hair. His spare robe was given to me and slowly, I threw it round my shoulders. Once my hair was dry, he kissed my throat and pulled me to lie against him. The covers were pulled over us, and then, I felt a strange peace I hadn’t felt since long before the hideousness began all those years ago.

 

 

 

 


	2. What Have I Left?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Eva has nightmares of where she's being raped by Chilton's inmates, so be forewarned; there are also themes of her wishing to commit suicide. Also, depending on how lengthy my chapters are, you might get more than thirteen this time.

_My labia was flushed warm, my abdomen heaving. I had been having spasms enter my body whenever I had these nightmares. In these nightmares, I was walking down the stairs to the cells. The bar door was opened and no one was in the security office. It was empty and dark, save for a few lights that shone at the end of the corridor. I was barefoot and with a flimsy white dress on my shoulders._

_The cells I passed were still full of their occupants, and as I walked past them, I saw how their jumpsuits were opened, their hands at their cocks, stinking, loathsome. The stench of their semen was enough to drown one out of reality. Still as I persisted, I saw Lecter’s cell at the very end; only this time, it was open. The glass was shattered upon the floor and its shards were undoubtedly sharp._

_Fuck, I thought. He got out. He got out and I don’t know where he’s at._

_The hall suddenly became very quiet._

_So deathly silent._

_The prisoners were all hushed and their throats were without a sound. In a panic, I started to run back towards the entrance where I came from. The shards somehow had found their way before me and like a lucid dream, I found myself sinking with dismal thought. The cells were opening then beside me as I ran, but like a fool, I thought I could outrun them. But oh, how I was so very wrong._

_\--_

_The doors to their cells were famished iron and they all caught up to me. One after another, they took turns ripping at my dress. One man held me down, his hands rough and calloused on my wrists. He held my arms up over my head and another man held down my ankles. The dress was ripped from my body and below, only my panties lay bare._

_“Hold the cunt down,” one spat._

_“Hurry up,” the other said. “I haven’t fucked a bitch this raw since ‘81.”_

_My eyes filled with tears and my heart raced._

_“No,” I screamed, thrashing. “You’re not to touch me! I’m not for any of you! Fucking let me go!”_

_But one after another, the most brutal of slaps came across my face. I swore that my jaw was more than bruised, for it felt broken. I could not speak, talk or scream. I could only cry. My voice box felt like it was being crushed. One inmate’s hand was upon my throat and with every time I squirmed, he gripped me tighter. The lights faded and there was nothing but blackness all around me._

I was being murdered, fondled, this I knew.

I wanted to claw at their faces, but knowing it was a dream, what good would it do?

My breasts, from what I could feel in the warmth of the bed, were aligned with sweat. My throat was still untainted but it felt sore, felt stretched. I woke up screaming and I sat up almost immediately in the bed. My fingernails tore at the sheets. The fabric ripped and my silk nightgown was drenched from my sweat. I flung the covers back and ran to the bathroom, the silk falling from my shoulders.

\--

I once again turned on the cold water.

I threw myself into the porcelain tub and waited, waited as the waters started to rise and swarm around me. I felt tears falling from my eyes without stop. My fingernails now raked against my flesh, the tips slicing, scratching. I was bleeding now and I could not stop it whether I wanted to or it. Somehow, I deserved this. I deserved these visions, these nightmares of an abhorred rape and attack.

Perhaps the cunt god wanted me to suffer as I had suffered those to my wrath.

But goddamn it, Frederick is mine. I want nothing more than to have him hurting me, loving me and confusing me with those lips and that cock. I was feeling so traumatized and when I lowered myself beneath the water, I sank deeply, hoping to wash away the stench of their unrealistic, yet horrific-smelling semen. _It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real. It’s not fucking real_ , I kept telling myself. _It’s not!_

_I emerged from the waters and started to take the sponge to myself. I stood upright in the tub then and violently scrubbed myself all over. There were scratch marks and the sight of my skin was turning red again. I’m a filthy little whore. I’m a fucking mess, I’m a monster. I should be killed because of what I’ve done. There’s nothing beautiful in murder to a sane person’s eyes, but if one had been raped by their own biological father, wouldn’t you want a little death to rectify what wrong had been done?_

\--

I wanted it done, wanted it over with.

I wanted to back away from this life whatever it was and how I thought of how to do it. My hand would be holding a straight razor, one sharp, one silvery-cold and beautiful. I’d reap it across my throat and feel it burn at my flesh. I’d slice my own cricothyroid muscle and feel the blood leave my body, warm and red. I’ve already told myself I won’t suffer. And with that, I plan on doing anything by any means necessary.

\--

I helped myself later on back to bed and lay there naked. My feet were numb and I couldn’t feel my fingers. Perhaps I had stayed in the bath for too long. Perhaps I had become a wrinkled corpse not yet able to experience rigor mortis. But what did it matter--- I was alive and Papa and that wretched cunt Gina were dead. I was at peace with myself and as I closed my eyes, I waited. I listened to only my faint breathing and listened to the sound of the grandfather clock that ticked, ticked, ticked.

The sound of rain also entered my ears. The pattern of the rain beating against the window gave me a new kind of reflection. I was droll some days, but not today. No, I was a victim myself, turned perpetrator and menace to those who either wronged or annoyed me greatly. I was an innocent girl once, now thoroughly debauched into the submission that is the social cog of an intricate, boring machine.

Still as I lay there, I felt my hips grow colder still. The room was cold too and yet I had been lazy to remove myself from the bed to make any kind of heat appear. The satin was like a sheet of ice and I was about to be frozen to its surface. My tears fell again and stained my paling cheeks. I hadn’t gone to the hospital with Frederick, as it was the weekend and he did not want me to join him in his abundance of work. I only hoped he was not fucking another woman again. That would truly kill me.


	3. Something Wicked This Way Comes

When I escaped my home, I had gone to school. Camilla wasn’t there yet, but I was grateful. As I stepped inside and held the door open for another girl, I looked from across the way and saw Fred drive into the parking lot at my school. I almost died from embarrassment, as I had no idea as to what he was doing here. My eyes followed his every move. I felt my heart racing, pounding, beating almost violently out of my chest. I started to panic on the inside.

_Why was he here?_

He didn’t stay very long, but when fourth period was about to begin, I hid in the side hallway that led to the gymnasium. I watched as he entered at the front door, and he walked into the office. He met my principal and together they walked back into his private office. My curiosity was peaking. I hadn’t the slightest idea as to what he was doing, but I was determined to figure it all out.

The others were starting to walk down the hallway and I swept myself across the linolieum. I stood beside the side door to the office, whereas I could hear everything that was transpiring.

Frederick was speaking to Marrion, and I heard every word, crisp, clean, clear. “Forgive the sudden interruption of your school shift, but I simply have to speak with you.”

“What is it, Dr. Chilton?” Marrion asked.

The voices became steady, but quiet. “I’m afraid one of the students has a father who went missing unexpectedly. I was notified of it by local police because he happens to be one of the psychiatrists working with me at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.”

Silence almost came over Marrion, and when people started to gawk at me, I pretended to be reading my copy of _1984_. My eyes scanned over the words but my ears were like a hawk’s, listening intently.

“My God, that’s horrible. Which employee of yours is it, if I may ask?”

“Marceau Sabatiér,” said Fred.

 _Oh God, oh God_ , I thought to myself, my eyes on the verge of tears. _Fred, shut your mouth! We’re going to be caught, and now because of you blabbing to the principal, I know he’ll start his own little search, ring my father’s phone at the house until he tries to answer! Damn you, Fred--- now I have to clean up another one of your messes!_

\--

I went to my fourth period class of Advanced Algebra. I tried to make sure nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but who hadn’t seen me at the side door? Everyone had been staring and already, I’d been asked by two others as to why I was there eavesdropping. I flatly told them to mind their own business and that it wasn’t any of their concern. But damn, was there any other situation to be as precarious?

I wished I hadn’t thought of it, because right before class started, the algebra teacher was notified by telephone; she answered it immediately, asked who, then looked across the way at me. My heart was pounding more violently and I felt nauseous. I wanted to cry, but I showed no weakness. Instead, I acted innocent, acted plain and simple like any other student here.

“Eva,” Ms. Carmine said, “Principal Marrion wants you down there now.”

 _Fuck_ , I screamed inside. _Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh Fred, I want to hurt you so badly right now, you have no idea, my love. If we get caught, I’ll kill you first and then myself; I won’t let anyone take you away from me when I’m destined by right to have you. Please, say nothing more. We’re already in bad lighting._

\--

The sound of my black Mary Jane heels echoed on the cold floor.

The walk to the office seemed so sullen and quiet, that I trembled every time someone looked at me. My long-sleeve white shirt was ruffled at the top, and I could smell the salt of my tears lingering there. I fretted. I didn’t know how to act, didn’t know what I’d have to say, but I knew it’d have to be a worthy performance. If I messed up, no one would believe me; I’d be deduced right then and there.

I turned the doorknob and entered. Principal Marrion was there with Frederick, with whom my heart rested. Frederick was pretending his innocence as well, though he was my accomplice. He’d seen me murder my father and he had been the one to help me get rid of the body. He sat there with his hands holding his thick winter coat, and as I watched him become erratic, my heartbeat was ceasing calmly.

“Thank you for coming down, Miss Sabatiér,” said Marrion, addressing me formally. “I have some terrible news. Won’t you please take a seat?”

I sat in the chair across from Frederick. He sat against the wall while I sat in front of Marrion’s desk. I planted my hands in my lap and crossed one leg over the other; my eyes were softly red but I knew that if I pretended allergies, Marrion wouldn’t think anything of it. So, I sniffled and withdrew a handkerchief; I brushed my nose with it and coughed, shaking my head briefly.

“Allergies,” I said.

He nodded in return but sunk his head lowly. “Eva, I’m so terribly sorry to inform you, but we’ve just received word that your father has gone missing.”

Now it was my time to shine; my Oscar-worthy performance would have to be exact, but not to delay my response, I allowed tears to well to my eyes. I pretended my throat was tightening and so, I hyperventilated into shock. The apsithyria was coming on as if it was destined to be there. My lungs felt shallow and I allowed my tears to fall. I clutched my handkerchief to my face and began to cry.

“Mon Dieu,” I gasped, choking for air. “What? I don’t understand, sir. How is this possible? What--- who, who has done this to my papa? Where did this happen, do you know?”

Marrion, just as I knew he would, believed my every action and word. He passed me tissues and gave me an emergency blanket to cover my shoulders with. I wrapped it around myself immediately and continued to allow my tears to fall. Fred sat across still and swallowed hard, once, never once giving me a fleeting glance; his eyes remained on the floor, or on his feet, whichever one I didn’t know. I could feel my hostility and pain forming, but it was not for the memory of my father, he who had raped me, beaten me, wounded me.

“We’re not sure at this time, Eva,” the principal continued. “Have you any other family to stay with here in the states? Or perhaps a hosting family?”

“No,” I answered truthfully.

Finally, Frederick made a sound and voiced his opinion. “Sir, might there be a way for me to make Eva my ward for the time being? Is such a thing possible?”

Marrion shrugged his shoulders and then I looked at Frederick, back to Marrion, back to Frederick; my pussy was reeling with warmth again and I was feeling flustered. My desperation was keen, so keen that I wanted it to happen. I was still truthfully angry with Fred, but if there was any way for it to happen, I wanted it to. Marrion punched in a number on the telephone. The number rang until a woman answered it. I heard her voice clearly on the dispatch.

“ _Baltimore Police Department_ ,” she said. “ _You’ve contacted the non-emergency number; state your situation and you’ll be redirected to the appropriate counselor_.”

“Missing situations and an inquiry involving a minor.”

Both Frederick and I tensed without hesitation; though we didn’t show it, I could feel it.

\--

An hour or so later, Marrion got off the phone.

“It seems that since you have no immediate family here in the United States, Eva, you’ll have to go back home to France.”

The fuck if I will, I wanted to say. I won’t leave Frederick, I won’t, I won’t! You can put me on the plane if you wish, but I’ll find another way to get back here. My passport is still valid and I can always have a new Visa issued. Try me, you insignificant little fuck--- no one is going to make me leave. I guarantee it.

“Surely there’s another way,” Frederick said. “She’s here on a Visa, for Christ’s sake, and you’re just going to turn this girl away when she’s here through half the school year already? What sense would it make to send her back to France, when suddenly she’d have to adjust back to that curriculum again?”

It hit me then--- a hosting family, as he mentioned before. Yes, a hosting family. If the State of Baltimore could make me Frederick’s temporary ward, I could stay, I wouldn’t have to leave him or the country after all. My fingers clenched together in anticipation. I rose both brows high and pleaded.

My lips were wet. “Please, Monsieur Marrion, could it be possible for Dr. Chilton to be my host?”

The principal’s brow rose high over his green eye, and he shrugged his shoulder. “I don’t know, Eva. I’m only a principal in a public school. I’m thinking you’ll have to go to the State Courthouse and have it arranged, but perhaps?”

It was a chance I was willing to take. I wasn’t prepared, I wasn’t ready to be shipped back off to France. I desperately wanted to go home. Home was here, with Frederick, with his inmates and their gruesome files that he slaved over and kept in his filing cabinets. There’d be no other place without him, no place in the world for me if he wasn’t there. I nodded singularily at Marrion and sighed.

“Very well, Monsieur. I shall prepare for whatever the state may grant or decide.”


	4. Break Me

“You couldn’t ask for a more opportune scheme, Eva.”

I clutched onto Fred’s coat and burrowed myself into his throat, into his hold as he wrapped me inside himself. We were on his sofa but still, his house was freezing until he could get the thermostat fixed. I felt my teeth clench and chatter, my eyes water and my skin turn white and pale all at the same time.

“And suggesting if the scheme doesn’t work?”

“Well,” he breathed. “We’re in for a world of hurt, I suppose.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

My lips found his throat and as I warmed him, he turned me onto my side, my arm leaning on his sternum. He slipped a hand into my panties and toyed with my clit, brushing the light stubble where my hair was beginning to grow back. I’d have to shave soon, but God, did his fingers feel good where they counted. His digits became slick with my heat, with my fluids, and as I moaned lightly, I groaned.

My mouth continued to maul his neck. My teeth, in a brief span of curiosity, gave him a light enough bite, to cleanse his flesh, to give him a bruise worthy of recognition. As Fred lowered his fingers past my clit, he turned me to make sure my back crushed his chest. My legs were spread apart, and from the touch of the cool air and his fingers, my pussy became wetter than before, wishing to be bruised, to be loved by the right man. My eyes watered still and I groaned, ululating as he started to finger me.

“Please, please,” I said, dismissing my anger of him. “Hurt me, please. I’m scared and I need you.”

I was so hungry for his fluids, so desperate to taste his cock. I pulled his fingers out my pussy and licked them, suckling them clean and when I faced him, I started to unbuckle his belt, to undo his zipper. He wore his expensive checked boxers, and from what I could smell, he ruined them with his pre-ejaculate. I loved ruining him. It was always profound to me, and I loved it, loved seeing him red.

\--

I felt him push into me and when he lifted me against the wall in his small stance, I grinned darkly.

His cock felt so warm, so hot; my labia gave him a sweet glide and as he motioned his hips back and forth, I felt his pressure against my mound. His own curls braced my clit, and with every push, he was swept against me and I groaned, my pussy clenching around his length hungrily, vivaciously. My fingers raked through the waves of his mullet and I supported myself, my weight distributed evenly.

He was about to come when suddenly he threw me onto his bed; he crushed me and mauled my throat, the tears in my eyes showing once more. They weren’t from false concern, but from pleasure. I could feel his cock at my cervix, and surprisingly, he hit it every time he moved in and out of me. I myself was about to come, but not before I heard the ringing of the telephone receiver by his bed.

We both stopped fucking and he immediately went to pick it up, but I stopped him first.

“Wait! Who do you think it is, calling at this hour?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “That’s probably why I should answer it, to find out you know?”

Again, I wanted to strike him, to hit him, to hurt him good. I wanted to rake these shapely nails across his face and draw blood; I hissed as I lay back on the bed, and as he leaned forward to get the phone, his cock still nestled inside me, he sat up and I wrapped my arms around his neck. I waited to hear a voice as he put the receiver up to his ear and mouth.

“Chilton here.”

For the first time, Fred seemed frightened. He stilled inside me and as I kept myself nestled around his shaft, he gripped onto me as if he were a scared little boy. One arm wrapped around my back and he stared at nothing, or perhaps at the wall.

Five minutes passed, and as I tried to listen, I heard my name mentioned along with Fred’s. The tones transpiring on the other end of the phone sounded courageous, demanding; a patsy Fred was and he didn’t even know it.

“Look, I don’t know how you got my home number, but never call here again. I’ll have them severely reprimand you and you won’t get any calls to your lawyer, understood? I’ll talk to you when I see you in your damn dungeon.”

Oh fuck, no. There’s only one who’d be persuasive enough to frighten an orderly into giving him the number of the hospital Chief of Staff. Lecter, it was Lecter I knew it. I clasped onto Frederick, equally frightened now, but I steadied his face in my hands, looking him dead in the eye as he quivered.

“What did Lecter say?”

He said nothing to me as he planted the side of his face onto my breast. Now my panic was rising.

_“What did he say, Fred?”_

“He said that if I don’t come down to acquiesce to his requests, he’ll tell that fucking agent about you and me. I can’t go against him. Like you’ve said and he’s said, I’m no match and I haven’t the intelligence. Just watch. If he ever got out, he’d cannibalize me for sure.”

I slapped the side of his face and pulled his hair back. I kissed him roughly, and in between gasps, cried, wept and shivered into his mouth. Both of my arms were steadfast around his neck once more.

“Don’t say things like that, my love, please. I’ll die if anything happens to you.”

My brows furrowed. There had been no mention of an agent at all in our discussions, no mention of anyone else for that matter. I looked away and decided to clench around him, around my new daddy as I kept him on my breast. But I knew it--- I knew that fucking psychiatrist was going to try something. He couldn’t resist a golden opportunity to belittle the Chief of Staff. I didn’t care about myself in that regard, but Fred--- oh, he wasn’t Hawking when it came to these little strategies at all.

\--

_My dear Miss Sabatiér,_

_You seem such a prime little girl. Do you know what you look like to me with the manly waves in your hair and your finely-stitched clothes, the mask of a man’s cologne? You look like a vessel fit for the likes of androgyny. You’re masculine in mind, in attitude, in heart, but on the outside, you’re a troubled mind aren’t you. Do you like playing adult games? Already you’ve advanced so greatly and for that, I admire your will to keep living. Most little girls would never go through with their threats of violence, but I can smell that ammonia and the blood. My scent of smell is keen like that._

_But you’re not the suicidal type--- at least, I hope not._

_Do you fashion yourself the beautiful heroine doomed in life, her beauty remaining but by a thread? I think so. I think you read the verses of Poe, Keats and Shelley almost as much as I do. Lately though, I’m feeling weary of how the idiot Chilton is treating you. I know he pushes you aside and takes other women; remember our earlier discussion, remember when I said I could his every session of coitus? I don’t lie, Miss Sabatiér. He still does this behind your back. It would be a pity if another accounting lady had to go missing. A steady body count doesn’t become you. But do us a favor. Go back to school and pay attention, surprise us all with your intelligence and your Salome charm. Ta-ta, H._

-

“That bastard!” I screamed.

Barney stood before me and shook in his white clothes. He had no choice but to deliver the message from the ‘good doctor,’ and he wrung his hands nervously as I read the letter, over and over. The paper was becoming wrinkled in my own hands. I wanted to scream, to punch the walls. My lungs were heaving with a burning sensation and I felt my eyes flowing. I didn’t want to ask Barney, but I had to.

“When did he write then and when did he give it to you? Did you read it, Barney?”

Barney shook his head. “Hell no I didn’t read it; that’s addressed to you, Miss Eva, and I never read other people’s messages and letters, such like that. I’m thinking he wrote it around the early evening last night.”

“How the hell did he get a hold of a pen and paper?”

There was a strict rule set in place. After nine in the evening, inmates weren’t allowed to receive any phone calls, papers, pens, utensils or anything in the manner. I’d paid attention to the rules inscribed on the plaque downstairs, but my fists balled into fists. My eyes looked directly into Barney’s.

“Look, he made me do it, Miss Eva. He made me get those things for him, and once he was doing writing it up, he made me deliver the message to you. I didn’t want to do it, believe me, but you don’t know him like I do. He’s mad alright, but he’s not impulsive.”

“You’re an orderly, Barney! You could get fired for not following regulation, and besides, what if Fred-- Dr. Chilton, sees you on the video tapes and sees that you delivered these things to Lecter? Look, I’m not your enemy, but I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me the truth of things. Did Lecter request anything else of you?”

I could tell he seemed hesitant, and with their life potentially at stake, who wouldn’t be? “Yes, he did.”

“What did he ask of you, Barney?”

“He said that I should give tomorrow’s visitor a few letters that he’s written exclusively to him.”

He tried ushering me out the door, but I didn’t budge. I couldn’t, not until I myself wrote Lecter back. I searched the little room with the monitors, and found a piece of paper and a pen nearby. Barney’s mouth dropped open and he was shaking his head profusely.

“Oh, Miss Eva--- don’t be a fool! Don’t cause that man any reason to get you!”

But as I wrote, I was ignoring Barney the whole way through his protests.

-

_Dr. Lecter,_

_I am not a fool in the slightest, this you know. I know that you would have the relationship between Dr. Chilton and I exposed. You and I both know that you’re not mentally incompetent, and nor are you in the position to say what is right from wrong in my life. As I said before, I am fully capable of looking after myself. But how did you know that I murdered **her**?_

_Did you know that I murdered my father, too, after he’d raped me, beaten me? Yes, I murdered him; I slit his cricothyroid muscle and lathered my memories with his blood. I disposed of him, mangled him with the downstairs incinerator, and you know what? Dr. Chilton was there to help me get rid of the body. He’s so valiant and loyal, the likes of which you perhaps know nothing about. You’re locked away._

_Who truly as the best chance of freedom here? Thee or me? You so much as speak of my name or of my relationship with Frederick to anyone else, I myself will have the key to your cell and not even the devil himself would be able to stop me from ending you. If that chances comes, I look forward to it._


	5. Devouring Crimson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Explicit scenes of underage lesbian sex take place, same with genital mutilation, drugging, murder and bodily incineration. Read at your own risk, and as always, I do not condone or encourage these behaviors.

When I saw Camilla at school the next day, I pulled her upstairs towards the room hidden behind the bleachers. In an enticing mannerism, I pulled her in close. She sat on my lap and started to gossip with me as she touched my black hair. White, pale digits loomed in about me and as I watched with intent eyes, I knew that she would be eager enough for the night’s later sessions.

Her fingers found my breasts and she tweezed them gently, then rough. Her lips found mine and I eagerly returned the favor. Her tongue lunged against mine and I felt triumph of the bisexual whore within my veins. Heat rose between us and I found myself becoming enthralled, becoming deep and sensuous with every lick. I was just about to tear her shirt downward and in half, but I couldn’t.

The bell rang.

I lapped at her lips hungrily then. “Later, ma petite salope, later. I’ll be waiting for you when school is over. I’ll have my driver take us back to my home. Just wait for me, then we’ll have some promising fun.”

She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me once. “Oh, I love it when you speak your language. I can’t wait for tonight. Shall I bring toys?”

“As many as you’d like.”

Frederick was away at the hospital working late on a new case. For nights now he’d been pondering late in his office. Always scratching at the papers with his pen, writing, taking notes. He’d been ignoring me and so, I would have my fill of another death before returning to him. I adored Camilla, I did, but she would reveal me if I told her anything. And if she came around where she was not wanted, grave consequences would follow. And tonight, she’d come for me and only then that would be her final display of love.

\---

The road was sullen and there’d be high amounts of rain pouring down.

The weathermen had predicted that there would be a massive flood on the lower streets, but more so, that there would be a wild, vicious thunderstorm. Much like the one that happened the night Sophie-Marie died. The skies were growing grey and blue, and when Camilla and I were dropped off at my home, we wandered inside and made something for dinner. There’d be no point in letting her die on an empty stomach, as that would make me into an insensitive hostess.

We had a simple finish to the delectable course. We had red wine, two glasses each, followed by a morsel of a delicious molten lava cake made of chocolate. She was inebriated and intoxicated, all by food, drink, as well as another little item I had slipped into her wine. I was sure it was circulating through her bloodstream now.

The powder of ecstasy mixed into the dark red of the liquid was nowhere to be seen. It took a few minutes at first, then twenty, but Camilla’s body was reacting to it with such simulation that she looked positively radiant. Her skin seemed glowy, but her veins, bluer than the ocean, showed at the surface of the film. She followed me upstairs then and watched me with dilated pupils. When her hand touched mine, I could tell that there was a shift in her body temperature. The blood in her veins was flushed warmer than before. In her free hand, she had her bag of explicit toys. She was giggling the whole time and as she followed behind me, she clung to me in a brazen manner. The minute we entered my bedroom, she threw the bag down, let go of my hand and ran onto my bed. She started to tear her clothes off without pause.

“My,” I laughed. “We’re certainly in the mood, aren’t we?”

She showed her breasts now. “Christ, love, what did you put into my drink? It’s utterly superb!”

I shut the door behind me and locked it, all the while maintaining a calm look. I walked towards the bed slowly and started to stalk her. She knelt on my bed at the foot of it, and kept smiling, kept laughing. I could tell now the ecstasy was driving her senses. Her nipples were voraciously erect and darkened with the blood that pooled within them. Pity. It would be a shame to see such beautiful nubs of flesh swollen and bruised before they’d be expelled from her.

\---

I tied her to the St. Andrew’s cross in the right corner.

She was willing after all though under the influence of drugs. Her labia was exposed and pliant, and from afar, as I stripped slowly to tease her, I could smell the aroma of her delicious cunt. There was no hair upon the folds and thus, she was clean. She mewled and whined for me as my robe fell down my shoulders. White satin pooled around my ankles and for her, I pretended to be virginal. But then as she finished speaking, what she said struck an odd chord in my ear.

“Eva, please,” she cried. “I don’t want to wait anymore. Please claim me…”

My brow rose high over my shadowy eye. “Claim you?”

“I have to confess to you, Eva. I’m a virgin.”

Now I walked towards her with my lips wet. This was going to be perfect--- now I could ravage the lamb and make do with the imperfection that was her hymen. I knelt before her and breathed lightly on her exposed clit, which was now flushed red and beautiful like a seed of a pomegranate. She threw her head back and whimpered.

“And here I thought you were already bearing fruit, my little English _prostituée_. Hmm,” I jested. “Would you give me the honor of deflowering you?”

I gripped both of her legs and spread them apart further. She motioned her hips towards my lips, and for a brief moment, the taste of the wine, the chocolate and ecstasy combined onto my tongue. I lunged for her before she could even answer. Camilla’s face went aghast with desire. She started to sob now as I nuzzled her clit with my teeth, gently grinding, sweetly suckling. Two of my fingers slipped into her canal and I could feel how she winced.

“Eva, it hurts.”

It reminded me now of how Fred had claimed me. He hadn’t been gentle the first time around and all he wanted was to fuck, suckle and drink me in. He didn’t care about the blood, but to let little Camilla know who was in charge, I slipped one finger out and used it to motion in and out, up and down, up and down.

Blood was smearing my finger and it gleamed beautifully against the fading sunlight. The windows weren’t open as widely and the curtains were shading the whole room. No one could see us and no one would hear us. I had numbed her senses entirely and thus, she was mine to defeat and control. I started to lick her harder with my tongue. She let her tears fall onto her breasts, and somehow, they grazed my own cheeks. The chains rattled as did her cuffs. She was bound completely and as she cried, groaned and wheezed, I could tell the drugs were aiding her in creating the perfect psychosis in her own little world.

“Eva, fuck me, please. In my bag,” she gasped. “There’s a little strap with a cock on it. Buckle the straps onto your hips and use it to fuck me, please. I don’t want to wait anymore…”

\---

I did as she instructed.

I put the straps on and found that the weight of the false phallus was invigorating. It made me feel like a man capable of utmost brutality. Was this how Fred and every other man felt? To be powerful, beautiful and dangerous with such an organ of pleasure and disgust? I removed the cuffs from her wrists and she wrapped her arms around my neck. I was as thin and petite as she was, yet I was the stronger one. I was not impaired by drugs and so, I was the man tonight.

She sunk on the phallus and wrapped her legs around my hips. I pinned her up against the wall and began to thrust, learning and remembering all the motions that my own lover had taught and shown me. Her fingernails dug into the hollow of my back and how I loved it.

“Eva, _yes_ …”

She hit her orgasm and begged me to fuck her ass, which I did without hesitation. I used some of own blood as lubrication and as she clutched onto the frame of my mirror, holding it, she threw her head back and screamed over how much she loved me.

 _Yes indeed, pet, how you love me. I’ll make sure your final hours are pleasurable, right before I take the life from you_.

\---

Half an hour later, she was screaming beneath the gag.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t twitch, scream or beg, all she could do was cry. She seemed betrayed by me and with that, I had no quarrel. I didn’t care. I was enjoying this and experiencing the whole of cruelest humanity as I cut her thighs and drank the blood from there. Crimson swept onto my tongue and lathered it wholly.

The scalpel was cold and true. I cut her labia little by little but never once taking them off her body. I licked hungrily and drank her in, gnawing, biting until she truly screamed beneath the gag. I mounted the bed and took her clit from her, almost in the same manner in which I had taken Gina’s. I was feeling triumphant, and as she bled and bled, I found myself laughing and smiling in the same manner she did only hours before.

Per the norm, I cut her throat and watched her exsanguinate.

She lay in my arms as a mutilated corpse and as I carried her downstairs, bridal-styled and wrapped in red silk, she never appeared more beautiful even as I fed her to my incinerator where her ashes would now lay mingled with my rapist’s.

 


	6. Chapter 6

I was waiting in the wing of the hospital with the files in hand. It was a casual scene of a young girl holding her papers to her breast, but I didn’t care. I still had the taste and smell of Camilla’s body on me, and that helped me through the early hours of the morning. For me, the perfume I wore was convincing. It allowed the musky scent to mask the smell of ash. Fred had been here for a few hours already but as it was now a matter of a break from school, I wanted to help out at the hospital as much as I possibly could.

“Excuse me,” a voice said.  “The orderly Matthews said I should come talk to you.”

I turned around and saw a man standing before me with blonde hair, blue eyes and a seemingly glum face. He had on a black coat, blue jeans and an awful aftershave that started to resonate in giving me a headache. I cleared my throat and spoke as clearly as I could in my falsified American accent.

“Yes, sir?” I inquired. “May I help you?”

“I’m Special Agent Will Graham with the FBI, and I was wondering where your supervisor is.”

His tone was nonchalant and cold. He seemed unusually calm for an agent, but I knew then that he wanted to speak with Fred. I pursed my lips once and swallowed, but not hard; no, if I swallowed hard and began to show signs of worry, he’d know something was about.

“I believe Dr. Chilton is in his office. Follow me please.”

 

\---

 

The walk up the flight of stairs to the third floor seemed impossibly long. Each step that came beneath my feet seemed steep and rancid at the same time. Graham was following me close, and I could almost feel his breath on my neck. Hadn’t he heard of personal space?

I led him around the corner and approached the door. If I hesitated to knock on the mahogany, it would look increasingly suspicious. I knocked with three perfect raps and waited.

“Enter!”

I turned the doorknob and prayed profusely that Fred wasn’t about and performing his lewd acts once more. I told him once before if he did it again, I’d kill him and then myself. Perhaps he was finally taking it to heart.

“Dr. Chilton,” I choked. “This is Special Agent Will Graham from the FBI. He wants to speak with you.”

I turned around and did not look at Fred for very long. Beneath the fine suit I wore, my heart was palpitating, was racing and my head was throbbing over and over again with the sensations of fear. My heels clicked on the linoleum and I shut the door behind me. But strategically, I walked away far enough and removed my heels then. I ducked into a corner that was right behind Fred’s office, and there the wall was shallow enough to listen through. I bit my lips violently in order to repress a sound from my mouth.

Inside, I could the two of them talking.

“Dr. Chilton, I need to speak with one of your patients,” Graham said.

“Which one would that be?”

A sullen silence fell for one, maybe two seconds before Fred cleared his throat and sighed. “Lecter then…”

“Yes."

“Dare I ask why?”

 _Christ_ , I thought. Even when questioning authoritative figures he was an imbecile. I clenched my teeth together and bit harder, just as blood was drawn. It dripped off of the corner of my bottom lip and onto my foot, where it soaked through the stockings I wore. Red mashed with tan and my heart was sinking.

For the next few minutes, they were speaking lowly and so I could barely hear them. The audible tones they had suggested that the conversation was intensely serious. Graham would speak for a minute at a time, then Fred.

“If you would perhaps care to share your insights…”

Graham refused him. “I’m sorry, Dr. Chilton, but I’ve got a 4:17 flight back to Atlanta.”

“Of course…”

I was about to walk out but I heard Frederick rise from his chair. Shit, they were coming out. I lunged back into the hall and shut off the lights, then squeezing myself in between two old, towering cabinets. I heard the office door open and then the two of them were walking down towards the ‘dungeon.’ I wanted to follow behind, but I knew it’d be impossible. As if that wouldn’t arouse suspicion to the most extreme.

I raced into Fred’s office and found a live feed to a monitor he had installed in the side corner. I watched him escort Graham downward, all the while I heard their speech to one another. First, Fred spoke.

“Let me be frank, Mr. Graham. The first definitive analysis of Lecter will be a publisher's wet dream. I'd give you full credit, of course.”

But Graham ignored him completely. He walked past the iron bars and before he could walk down the corridor, Fred stopped him again as the gate closed. He threw his hands onto the bars and said, “Dammit, man, you must have some advice. You caught him. What was your trick?”

Then in an emotionless, pliant tone, Graham replied, “ _I let him kill me._ ”

We went home in separate cars and the rain was pouring down, down, down. The scent of rain was fresh and potent, but somehow, I was feeling lonesome though I knew I’d see my doctor in an hour. Thunder roared overhead again and it boomed loudly, sending palpitations through my heart. I hadn’t been so afraid of storms since that night when my twin died. I hated it. Immensely. And whether or not this Graham would figure us out, I hadn’t the slightest idea.

I would press Fred for information the moment we got together.

 

\---

 

“Eva? Eva, where did you put the case files for Lecter?”

When I set the table and took the first bite of a cuisine I had made especially for tonight, I tried to wrap my head around what he was asking. He seemed nervous and disturbed, disturbed by the fact that a FBI agent had come into the hospital.

But to avoid a sullen silence, I answered him.

“They should be marked in your “L” folder in your cabinet drawers. Why? Are they not there?”

“I don’t know,” he groveled. “I haven’t checked for them lately. That’s supposed to be your job.”

I slammed my fork down then and let out a deep-throated sigh. Fred’s eyes caught mine as he sat back against the chair, drinking the wine I’d poured. His bottom lip quivered against the rim of the crystal.

“Taking your frustration out on me won’t do a damn thing. Besides, I can’t help if your standards are lax.”

Now he was enraged with me. He stopped eating and gave me a glare from across the table. My pulse was racing though it was not clearly visible. I wanted him to hurt and so, I decided to be cruel. I had meant what I said. He was not lax enough.

He threw his fork down and it clattered hard across the surface of the table. He swept his napkin across his mouth and he seemed disgruntled. I, on the other hand, smirked from where I sat and waited eagerly.

“Eva, do you enjoy being a narcissistic little bitch?"

  
I licked my red lips once. “Only for you, _mon amour_. Only for you.”


End file.
